


Handle with Care

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He introduces himself as Ling. His bow looks clumsy. She sweeps his legs out with under him and observes the arc of him falling on his rear. The boy of maybe ten years blinks, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Woah! Could you teach me some of that?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handle with Care

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt: "I like your writing style and I sorta wanted to ask for a drabble. Lan Fan and Ling's first meeting. Lan Fan nearly kills a fool."
> 
> I don't normally write exquisitely short things, but this was fun.

He introduces himself as Ling. His bow looks clumsy. She sweeps his legs out with under him and observes the arc of him falling on his rear. The boy of maybe ten years blinks, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Woah! Could you teach me some of that?”

Her jaw firms. She turns back to her own practise. The forest clearing provides a combination of shade and warmth that relaxes her muscles and loosens her tendons. Methodically she moves through the stances her grandfather has taught her. Right foot outwards, elbows at a tight angle, knees bent for maximum force when she kicks. Shaken bark litters the grass. The leaves rustle; a few crinkle into her hair.

The boy stares at her with wide eyes. His fingers curl around his forearms. After a time of pleasant silence he begins to shift his weight around, adjust his stance to faintly copy hers. Despite her focus on her training, she finds herself studying him in the periphery of her vision.

His foot makes contact with the tree with an audible crack. He drops like a stoned bird. She continues the familiar motions for another few minutes of quiet. Exhaling slowly she crouches beside his curved form, thighs tensed, and prods his head with a stubby forefinger. “Are you dead?”

His eyelids twitch. No tears. Mentally she commends him. He smiles weakly, hands wrapped around his ankle. The skin appears red and swelling rapidly. “Heheh, I’m practically immortal.” He massages his ankle, wincing and grimacing. His nails look like crescent moons of dirt, but his fingertips seem soft. A student evading his tutor for the day, she supposes. “I guess that was pretty stupid of me, huh. You _sure_ you won’t teach me? I’m a quick study, I swear!”

Definitely an evasive student. _Quick study_. She slaps his wrist before he snaps his bones in half. “Move.” He settles his hands delicately in his lap. Then he tilts his head at her.

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Don’t say anything.” Gingerly she tests the wounded area. Although his fingers clench in the pain, knuckles paling, his grin shows no signs of disappearing. “And stop looking at me like that.”

His  laugh transitions into a choked _nnrgh_ when she depresses two fingers. “Looking at you like what?”

“It’s bruised.” She sharpens her voice to a razor’s edge. “Dip it in cold water. Hold some ice to it if you can find a frozen pond.” Dropping his foot and ignoring his jolt, she stands briskly. Brushes dust from her trousers. “Now leave me alone.”

“Only if you tell me your name.” His smile has widened. His teeth are shiny-white.

She punches the tree hard enough for her knuckles to imprint grooves in the bark. “Fine. Lan Fan. Now run back to your books.”

“Lan Fan.” He rolls her name over his tongue like a symphony.

She punches the tree again. “You’re still here.”

Chuckling. “I think you’ll have to, ah, carry me, actually.”


End file.
